


C in the New Year

by chick_with_wifi



Series: Isn't there a law against that? [5]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: Root and Shaw take a road trip up to Texas to visit Shaw's family for Persian New Year. Things don't quite go to plan, but everyone has a good time.





	1. Driving

“That’s everything,” announced Shaw as she finished heaving the final case into the trunk of the car, dragging the back of her hand across her forehead and pausing to catch her breath.

“Great job, Honey,” congratulated Root from where she was sat cross-legged on the small patch of grass beside the student car park, picking apart a single blade of grass and ignoring the growing damp patch the morning dew was making on her jeans. A cool breeze raised goosebumps on her bare arms, and the grey light of dawn was just beginning to filter through the low clouds.

The car didn't belong to Shaw (she drove an old, well-loved pickup truck) but John had kindly lent it to her and Root for the weekend. It was Nowruz, Persian New Year, on Sunday 20th March so the pair of them were travelling down to the Shaw homestead in Euless, Texas that Saturday morning.

Root stifled a yawn. Wriggling her toes inside her boots she felt the familiar prickly, half-present sensation in one foot that indicated her right leg had gone to sleep. Standing, she brushed herself off while the blood rushed to her foot in a million tiny pinpricks. Then she walked over to the car, limping slightly as her leg objected to her putting weight on it, and Bear followed her. She opened the passenger door and indicated for her service dog to climb in by snapping her fingers and pointing. He jumped onto the worn orange towel that had been laid across the back seat for him and Root made sure he was comfortable before getting into the passenger seat. As the coldness from the grass seeped through her jeans she winced, and tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

Shaw slammed the trunk closed and walked round to the driver’s side. “You sure we haven’t forgotten anything?” she asked, settling into the seat and moving it forward considerably from where John normally had it.

“I hope so. If not, I’m sure we'll manage,” replied Root, clicking her seatbelt in place. She could smell an exotic, tangy scent and deduced it was coming from the palm tree shaped air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror. Such a John thing to have, she thought fondly.

“Not if you forgot some vital medication,” Shaw pointed out with a serious expression.

Root tilted her head to the side slightly. “I've been doing this for nearly twenty years. I haven't forgotten anything medical.”

“OK.” Shaw turned the key and the engine revved to life as Root pulled her feet up onto the seat and wrapped her arms around her legs. The pair drove in silence for a few seconds until Shaw said, “I feel like I ought to forewarn you about my family.”

“Oh?” The corners of Root’s mouth quirked upwards.

“Yeah, they can be a bit...full on.”

“Worse than your parents? Cos they love me.” She accompanied this with a hair toss, an impressive feat from the position she was sat in.

“I know. When you're not there they refer to you as ‘our favourite daughter’.”

“And when I am there.”

“No! They say that to your face?” Shaw’s voice was an entire octave higher than usual.

Root nodded. “Mmhm.”

“Take that back! Maman and I will be having words when I get home,” she grumbled, tightening her grip on the steering wheel.

It was too early to expect her to function, so Root rested her head on her right hand and lent it against the plastic ledge below the glass of the car window and closed her eyes. The shaky movements of the car on the uneven road meant the back of her hand was jolted against the plastic every few seconds, but it wasn't substantial enough to be annoying. In both ears, she could heat the rushing sound made by the tires on the road. It was peaceful and she allowed herself to drift into the endless landscape of her thoughts.

During their high school years, Root was a frequent visitor to the Shaw household, to the point where she was essentially a family member and Mr Shaw once said it would only be a matter of time before the postal company started sending her mail to their house. It wasn't that Root didn't love her parents - she did, a lot - but she kind of associated her home with medical stuff and seriousness, whereas Sameen’s family were more cheerful and welcoming and the picture of a happy family. There was also the fact that Sameen made her feel safe and loved no matter what was happening, and she would do anything for her.

Come to think of it, she was fairly sure Mr and Mrs Shaw had been in her dream last night. There was definitely something about a vending machine - or was that the night before? No, that was the night before because it was the same dream where Shaw had a jet plane that contained an entire kitchen and tried to get Root to invent a new kind of coconut cookie on the way to her grandma's.

But where did the hotel with a white marble staircase come into it? Something struck a chord in her brain and she was certain if she could just find the right memory the entire dream would come flooding back to her. It’ll come back to me when I’m least expecting it, decided Root. She pulled herself out of her daydream by biting the inside of her gum. For a few seconds she stared out of the window and the buildings they had been passing earlier had gradually thinned out to become a more rural area.

Shaw must have noticed the change in her body language because she gently asked, “You alright?”

“Dandy,” mumbled Root, sitting up properly and tucking her hair behind her ear. “Anyway, tell me more about your family.”

“Well, my maman’s sister Yasmeen is coming over with her husband Reza and their children Jamshid and Leila. Jamshid has just turned 22 and he works as a technician. Leila is in seventh grade and wants to be a dancer.” When she spoke of her relatives, Shaw’s voice was softer and filled with affection.

“And your aunt and uncle? What are they like?”

“Xale Yasmeen is the sort of woman who would have been a soccer mom if Jam or Leila had ever been interested in sports. If she gets new neighbours she is the first person to known on their door with a lasagne and a spare kettle.” She paused to smile fondly. “And Showharkhale Reza is a man of few words but always knows exactly how to make you smile.”

“Showhat?” asked Root with an adorably baffled expression.

“Xale is Farsi for aunt, as in your mom's sister and Showharkhâle means uncle, as in your mom’s sister's husband. It’s complicated, I know.”

Root nodded, “And what about your cousins?”

“Their personalities will speak for themselves when you meet them,” said Shaw cryptically.

To be brutally honest, Root was feeling quite nervous. Sameen’s parents were fantastic but she wasn't sure she was ready to meet the rest of her relatives. The Groves’ were not the type of people who knew their neighbours or had large gatherings or ever really did anything social. Between Root having a medical condition, her dad working full time and her mom often travelling for work it didn't really leave a lot of time for inviting friends over. And Root was a far cry from what anyone would describe as ‘social’.

They passed a large neon sign for a fast food outlet and Shaw pointed to it. “You want to stop for something to eat?”

“Not really.”

“Let me try that again. We are going to stop and have something to eat.”

“Alright.”

Shaw ordered their food at the drive through. In order to get some fresh air and stretch their legs, they opted to sit in the car park and eat it.

“Thank you,” said Shaw as she collected their burgers and milkshakes from the window. She then parked the car in the middle of three empty spaces and opened the door. As she ate, she walked around the car park but didn't stray too far. 

Root sat sideways on her seat with her legs dangling out of the car, and Bear ran around for a bit. When Shaw was finished she retrieved one of his sandwich bags of kibble from the trunk and emptied it into his bowl which she then placed on the ground.

Bear ate quickly, then raced over to Root who stroked him with her free hand. He then leapt and put his paws up on the dashboard. 

“What on earth is he doing?” laughed Root.

“I haven't the foggiest idea,” said Shaw, watching in amusement.

Bear’s nails scrabbled at the plastic then he gave up and let himself fall, walking back and eyeing the car.

“That was strange,” commented Root offhandedly. She shrugged and drew one foot onto the seat, resting her elbow on her knee. Then she got her phone out of the cupholder and googled how much fat was in her meal. Thankfully most fast food companies had this sort of information online which made it a lot easier for her to to work out how much medication to take.

Once she was done, she said, “Shaw, can you get the Creon out of the coolbag?”

“Where did you put the coolbag?” asked the other woman, finishing the last sip of her drink.

“In the big bag,” replied Root.

“Which big bag?”

“The black one.”

“They’re all black, Root!”

“You’re right, we really need to broaden our horizons. Maybe buy a red one-”

“Now is not the time! I am not carting your skinny ass around when you pass out because you haven't digested any food,” grumbled Shaw.

“I definitely packed it,” said Root. “After all, your squad seems to think I am the font of all knowledge, it would be harmful to my reputation if I were to forget something.”

“What font? Times New Roman?” laughed Shaw.

Root shook her head, smiling. Then she had a flash of inspiration, “Have you looked in the rucksack?”

“No because I was busy arguing with you, ya donut.” Shaw went round to the back of the car and unzipped her rucksack that they were using for all the valuable things like money and electronics. Sure enough, there was a small pink coolbag labelled ‘Root Groves’. “Found it!”

She handed it to her girlfriend who got out the pot of Creon and took a handful before passing the bag back to Shaw.

“We good?” asked Shaw.

Root nodded. Shaw threw away their trash, made sure Bear was settled on the back seat then recommenced their journey.


	2. Arriving

The car pulled up outside a large, red-brick house with a driveway already taken up by two cars - one black and one blue.

Root, Shaw and Bear got out, leaving their bags for the moment, and walked up to the door. Root tried very hard to convince herself she was not nervous and took deep breaths. Shaw rang the doorbell and a quiet chime was heard from inside the house, followed by an excited shriek of ‘they’re here!’ and a slightly irritated shout of ‘no, I’ll get it Bahadur. You stay there!’

There was a jingle of keys then the door opened to reveal Mrs Shaw with a welcoming smile on her face. She instantly opened her arms and enveloped them both in a motherly hug that lasted just the right amount of time. “Come in, come in.” She ushered them into the comfortable living room that was filled with people.

It was the perfect mixture of lived-in and tidy. The carpet was deep red, the walls a tasteful cream and two brown sofas were at right angles to each other. A coffee table littered with magazines and half-empty mugs sat in the corner in between them. The sofa on the left had two men sat on it, and the other two children and a woman. Outside it was beginning to go dark so the curtains were drawn and the lights were on, making it look even cozier than usual.

“It's my favourite daughter,” announced Mrs Shaw. “And Sameen.”

“Maman!” spluttered Sameen, too surprised to form a coherent sentence.

“I’m just teasing,” said her mother, affectionately putting her arm around Sameen’s shoulders and giving her a gently squeeze.

“I know,” replied Shaw.

“Can I offer anyone some tea?” asked Mrs Shaw.

Nobody wanted any so Mrs Shaw sat down, leaving Sameen stood in the doorway. “Whoa!”

A smaller girl threw herself at Shaw and knocked all the air out of her. “Dokhtarkhale Sameen!”  
Clinging to Shaw like a limpet, she was a good three inches shorter than her, slender and had her hair tied up in two pigtails. She wore purple leggings, a pink T-shirt and pale pink slippers designed to look like ballet shoes.

“Hello there,” said Shaw, patting her on the head. “It's good to see you too, Leila.”

Root watched in amusement, clinging to Bear’s leash, as Shaw allowed the hug to go on for far longer than she normally would, then pulled away.

“You must be Leila, I’m Root.” She offered her hand to Leila who shook it solemnly then turned to Shaw with a knowingly mysterious smile.

“Sameen, is she your dust doxtar?” Leila wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Yes,” said Shaw without embarrassment.

Root walked over and stood behind Shaw whispering in her ear, “What does dust doxtar mean?”

“Stop hogging the guests, Leila!” A tall, well-built boy got off the sofa and approached them, dressed in jeans and a dark green shirt.

He didn't react to Bear either, so Root supposed Sameen had probably already warned them about her service dog.

“Hey you,” greeted Shaw, fistbumping him.

“Right back at you,” he said. Then, to Root, “I’m Jamshid. You can call me Jam. You’re uh Root, right?”

“Yeah. Like square root, or the bottom part of a plant or a root user on a Linux system-”

“He gets it, babe,” said Shaw, stopping Root with a gentle hand on her arm.

“Right. Sorry.” She winced.

“It’s certainly an unusual name,” said Jamshid.

“It's because my sign name is the sign for a plant root. My dad is deaf, it's a long story. Anyway, it's nice to meet you.”

“And you.” Jam gave her a slightly weird look then went back to his place on the sofa.

Shaw flopped onto the only other available seat, next to Uncle Reza, and gestured for Root to sit on her lap. Surprising even herself, Root did so after taking Bear’s harness off and making sure he was settled by the fireplace.

“I’m Reza,” said the bearded man reading a newspaper. His smile was sincere and genuine; Root couldn't help but return it. “You already know Darya and Bahadur, so it's just my lovely wife Yasmeen that you haven't met.”

Across the room, a pretty lady wearing a purple dress waved to her. “That would be me!” She had similar cheekbones to Mrs Shaw, so it would have been clear they were sisters even if Root hadn't known already.

“It's nice to meet you,” called Root over the chatter.

“And you.”

Root smiled at her then leant closer to Shaw and whispered in her ear, “Your family is so sweet!” She curled up on her girlfriend’s lap and nuzzled into her chest, sleepily gazing at the rest of the room.

“Don't get too comfortable,” whispered Shaw. “We still have the family meal to come. And a little tradition of our own.”

“Hmm?” asked Root, playing with a lock of Shaw’s hair.

“You’ll see. It’s embarrassing beyond belief but my mom loves it. It’s extremely rare that we have the entire clan here and...uh….”

Mrs Shaw came back into the room with her arms full of pieces of fabric that she deposited on the floor in the middle. “OK, Bahadur?”

She picked up the top item which was a large white T-shirt with dark blue writing in bold capital letters arching across the top that read ‘Shaw family 2016’ with a cheesy picture of them all a few years younger wearing similar shirts printed beneath the lettering.

Mr Shaw stood and took the shirt from her, holding it up to himself. The entire room applauded, and Root laughed happily.

“Aww that's so cute!” she whispered, lightly elbowing Shaw in the ribs.

“Yasmeen?” Hers was matching, but with purple writing. She took it happily and put it on over what she was wearing.

“Reza?” His was pale blue, and he put it on the coffee table claiming he would wear it later.

“Jamshid?” Dark green, and he immediately left the room to change into it.

“Leila?” Light purple, and she bounced up and down holding it until Mrs Shaw instructed her to go put it on.

“Sameen?” Root stood and took Sameen’s from Mrs Shaw, examining it. The lettering was red, and in the picture little Shaw was smiling with an arm around both her parents’ waists. She looked so cute!

“And finally, Root.”

“What?”

Sameen stood, took her own shirt out of Root’s hands and put Root’s shirt into them.

“You...you got me one?” She clutched the shirt to her chest tightly, as if she feared it was going to dissolve through her fingers.

“Well of course we did!” cried Mrs Shaw.

“But I’m not a Shaw,” said Root.

“You will be soon.” Mrs Shaw winked and laughed when Root turned bright red. “Go and get changed, dear.”

Root went into the unoccupied bathroom and took off her shirt, then slipped the new one over her head. It was a perfect fit and the writing was hot pink - her favourite colour. She spent more time looking at the picture if the family in the mirror and noticing all the little details like baby!Leila’s gap-toothed smile.

She smiled wistfully then headed back to the living room.

“Hey, it looks great on you!” said Leila excitedly.

“Thanks. It’s my exact size, I don't know whether to be flattered or worried…”

“I gave them your size,” explained Shaw. “It was actually Maman’s idea to get you one. To be honest I half expected her to order a little matching dog coat for Bear!”

“Don't give her ideas,” hissed Jamshid.

“Thank you Mrs Shaw!” Root ran over to Darya and quickly hugged her.

“You're welcome, dearie. Now I must go and see how the food is coming on.” She scurried away towards the kitchen where Yasmeen and Bahadur were busy cooking.

“How was your drive here?” asked Reza.

“It was certainly…. interesting,” said Shaw slowly, sharing an amused look with Root.

“What happened what happened?” asked Leila, bouncing up and down in her seat on the sofa.

“It all started with a sheep….”

A few hours earlier 

Root, Shaw and Bear were driving over a hill when something blocked their path. A fluffy, white something. A sheep, to be exact.

“What the heck?!” Shaw slammed her foot onto the break and the car skidded to a halt. 

Without noticing them, the sheep just meandered around, minding its own business without a care in the world.

“Why on earth is there an honest to goodness sheep in the middle of the road?” cried Shaw, gesturing it with both hands.

“We are in Texas,” said Root calmly, taking a picture of the sheep then one of Shaw’s indignant expression.

“Root, stop!” Shaw covered the lens on Root’s phone with her hand and glared at the sheep.

“You trying to glare at it so hard it leaves?” asked Root in amusement.

“Pffft, no.” She closed her eyes for a second. “OK, fine. Yes but only because I don't know what else to do. That thing probably weighs more than both of us combined and sheep can be very ferocious, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Shaw caught sight of Bear in the rear-view mirror and an idea dawned on her. “Hey, Root. Let Bear out. Maybe he’ll chase the sheep away.”

Root laughed. “He’s a service dog, not a sheep dog!”

“Fine. Do you have any bright ideas?”

“Hmmm.” Root thoughtfully stroked her chin. “Hmmm.”

“That’s never good. Do I want to know?”

“Don't worry, it's not illegal. At least I don't think it is, but I can't check because there's no signal out in the sticks. Hey, did you know there is a country in which it is illegal to mow your lawn dressed as Elvis?”

“Really?”

Root nodded.

“I did not know that. Now stop trying to change the subject before that sheep gets too comfy!”

Root opened the door, climbed out and started dancing in the middle of the road. She shuffled, did the sprinkler then started trying to do something that looks like it could pass for Riverdance.

“Root for the love of all things well and good what are you doing?” Shaw muttered to herself quietly.

“Getting the sheep to move,” panted Root.

The poor sheep took one look at her and trotted away as fast as he could.

“How did you-”

Root tossed her hair out of her face and got back into the car. “I can read lips, remember?”

“Of course. I will also remember you dancing like that for the rest of my life.” Shaw smiled and restarted the engine.

“I didn't see you coming up with any other ideas,” protested Root.

“Hey, I wasn't complaining,” said Shaw quickly. She bit her bottom lip, “It was funny though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I would like to say that I am not Persian and all the information in this comes from the internet, so if you notice any mistakes or anything do tell me and I can correct it. (In the previous chapter I accidentally wrote cousin instead of uncle, but I have since changed it)  
> Thanks for all the kudos and I hope you enjoy reading!


	3. Celebrating

On the evening of the following day, Root was just exiting the bathroom when Shaw barrelled into her, pushed her back into the room and slammed the door behind them, sliding the bolt into place.

“Sweetie? Is everything OK?” asked Root in a whisper.

“Keep your voice down!” hissed Shaw. “We need to abort, now. This was a terrible idea. Do you reckon you could climb out through the window? Maybe shimmy down the drainpipe?”

“What?” Root took Shaw by the shoulders. “Calm down. Where did all this come from?”

“My parents are getting out the baby videos of me.”

Root’s eyes widened and she couldn't stop herself from smiling. “I bet you were an adorable baby!”

Shaw glanced back at the door worriedly. “Too bad you're never going to find out. Those photos must never see the light of day. We need to move to Tibet!”

“I think that's overdoing it a bit, Sweetie,” said Root soothingly, attempting to stroke Sameen’s hair.

Shaw rounded on her and gave her a dirty look.

“Then again what do I know. It might be the most horrific thing since the Bubonic Plague.”

“At any rate we can't stay in this bathroom. Somebody else might want to use it. How easily do you think we could just sneak out without anyone noticing?” contemplated Shaw.

“Given that there are six other people in this house, with great difficulty,” said Root.

“Ugh, you're right.” Shaw winced. Then she slid the lock open and stood with her hand on the door handle, “We can probably make it to the linen closet without being seen.”

She quickly opened the door and darted out into the hallway, swiftly followed by Root.

The pair then crashed directly into a solid figure about five inches taller than them both. “Jamshid,” said Shaw.

“Sameen,” he responded cordially. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding. Maman wants to show everyone baby pictures of me,” she whispered.

“You're not doing a very good job of hiding,” observed Jam.

“I know. Root and I will be in the linen closet, could you tell everyone we’ve been abducted by aliens or something?”

“Ooh!” gasped Root excitedly. “You could say I was detained by the police for practising witchcraft!”

Jam gave her a slightly concerned look. “I’ll tell them you're on the island with Bear Grylls,” he promised then headed downstairs.

Root and Shaw hid in the closet, which was about a foot wide and lined with shelves holding nearly folded covers and towels. “Any comments about us both being out of the closet would not be appreciated,” muttered Shaw.

Root held her breath to stop herself from coughing, because when you have CF the one time you need to be quiet is always the exact second you need to cough. Fortunately, nobody had seemed fazed by her sixty-year-old chain-smoker coughing, so kudos to them. To be honest, Shaw had probably given them the lowdown and assured them it is not contagious.

A few seconds later Shaw's phone beeped and she elbowed Root in the stomach while trying to reach it in her back jeans pocket. “Sorry. It’s a text from Jam ‘the eagle has landed’.”

“You guys have an eagle?” asked Root with wide eyes.

“No, you moron. He means the photos are being shown.”

“Ohhhh. That makes more sense.”

“Yeah,” agreed Shaw.

From outside the door, Mrs Shaw said, “Sameen?”

Shaw closed her eyes in defeat. “Uh, Sameen isn't here. Please leave a message after the tone. Beep.”

“Sameen Ashraf Shaw get out of that cupboard this instant!” Her tone left no room for disagreement.

Shaw got out of the cupboard, waited until Root had followed her, then slammed the door.

“What did that door ever do to you?” asked Mrs Shaw. 

“Nothing,” muttered Shaw stiffly. “Sorry, Maman.”

“It's alright dear. Jamshid said you didn't want us to look at the baby pictures of you so we won't.”

“Really?” asked Sameen in surprise.

“Yes. Now, how about you two help me set up the Haft-Seen?” suggested her mother.

“The what?” asked Root.

“Haft-Seen. It’s a table that you set up with seven items that all begin with S that all have special meanings and a Qur’an,” explained Shaw.

Downstairs, the coffee table had been cleared and a red and gold woven cloth had been laid over it. Leila was arranging a silver-handled mirror on it, and Jam laid the Qur’an next to it. Sameen helped her parents fill glass bowls with things like lentils, garlic and dried fruit and place them on the table.

Root watched in fascination from the sofa, not wanting to intrude. She was sat next to Mr Shaw, who was explaining the significance of each item to her.

“Reza and Yasmeen are making the traditional meal Sabzi-Polo-Mahi,” he continued. “We will eat that after the celebrations.”

“I see,” acknowledged Root. “Thank you for sharing.”

Sure enough, after they had all danced to some traditional music and handed out small gifts, the dining table was set and the meals laid out. Everyone stood in their places at the table and waited until the clock struck before turning to the person next to them and kissing their cheek, saying “Norooz Mobarak!”

Shaw embraced Root and whispered in her good ear, “Norooz Pirooz.”

“Umm you too?” whispered Root.

“Eid-eh shoma mobarak,” said Shaw.

“Yeah that's what I meant,” muttered Root.

Shaw laughed. “Of course it was, babe.”

When everybody had wished everybody a happy new year, they all sat down to eat. The meal was spinach rice, which was effectively yellowy green rice, and pieces of cooked salmon.

Root didn't really like the look of it, but the rice was alright so she ate small forkfuls of it then sliced the salmon into small pieces and managed a couple of those. Any kind of food really wasn't her favourite thing, but she wanted to be polite.

The conversation was cheerful; everybody was talking about what they wanted to achieve in the new year and how thankful they were that they were able to celebrate with each other. Root began getting actually quite emotional, because everyone was so sweet and it was such a far cry from the family celebrations she has grown up with.

Halfway through the meal, Shaw gently elbowed Root to get her attention then finger spelled under the table, “A-L-R-I-G-H-T?”

Root nodded and smiled at her gratefully. Soon after, everyone was finished and Root politely offered to help with the washing up.

“Oh, how kind!” said Mrs Shaw. “Sameen, did you hear that? Why can't you be more like your girlfriend?”

Root and Shaw both blushed.

“Anyway, no darling,” continued Darya. “You needn't help. Go make yourselves comfortable in the living room.”

Shaw put on a film, switching on the subtitles without Root even having to ask, and they all curled up on the sofa with Bear at their feet. 

…..

As a ‘thank you and farewell’ gift the next morning, Root had decided to make a soufflé for the Shaw family. Now, she was not by any stretch of the imagination a good cook, and was known for being a bit of a walking disaster, but she was determined to at least try. It's the thought that counts, right?

So there she was in the kitchen, preparing the eggs. She cracked them into a bowl, managing to keep the shells clear, then fished out the yolks. To beat them she used an electric whisk. As she did so she sang, “Now watch me whisk. Now watch me nae nae. Now watch me whisk whisk. Watch me nae nae.” She waved her free hand and shook her hips, chuckling to herself, “I’m so punny.”

To make the main mixture she melted butter in a pan, stirring it over the hob with a wooden spoon. She could feel the heat radiating from it, and tried to keep her hand as far away from the bottom of the pan as possible. Then she took the bag of flour and prepared to pour it into the bowl. She was so familiar with the recipe that she didn't need to measure out the amount. And that’s when disaster struck.

The bag tipped right over and every single grain of flour landed in the pan, filling it almost to the brim. Flour began to soak up the melted butter and form a gooey mixture.

Root, clutching the bag, watched in horror for a few seconds before frantically grabbing a clean teaspoon out of the cutlery drawer and beginning to shovel the top layer of flour back into the bag. Because that was obviously the most efficient way to do things.

She heard the door open and felt the vibrations in the laminate floor that indicated somebody was approaching. Judging by the depth and frequency, it was probably Sameen. “How's it going in here?” asked Sameen.

“Honestly? I’m having a bit of a mare,” replied Root. She kept her body angled so that Shaw would not be able to see the pan or the fact that her cheeks were the intense red of embarrassment.

“Nobody says that,” said Shaw. “A mare is a female horse.”

Root turned round to look at her, still holding a wooden spoon. “Really?”

“Yeah. I bet you don't know what the word for a male horse is.”

“A steed?” offered Root.

“No, but it does start with st.”

“A...storse?”

“No,” sighed Shaw, shaking her head in disappointment. “A stallion. Do you know what a young male horse is?”

“A sta! You know, like short for stallion because it's smaller?”

“I’ll give you a hint. It starts with a c.”

“A chorse!”

“No. Right, take the first name of the guy who plays Roy on Arrow and remove the on.”

“Colt?”

“Yes, good. I don't suppose you know what a young female horse is?”

“A coltette?”

“It starts with an f. And don't say force,” Shaw quickly added when Root opened her mouth.

“May the young female horse be with you.”

“What is a short name for Philadelphia?”

“Filly! Do you remember that scene from How I Met Your Mother when Marshall is driving to Philadelphia?” She mimed driving a car and sang, “‘Going to Phillaay!’ But then he gets a call from Barney telling him not to go to Philadelphia.” She pivoted on her heel and mimed driving in the opposite direction. “‘Not going to Phillaaay.’”

Shaw sighed again. “First, it's Ted that tells him not to go to Philadelphia and second, he never actually says ‘not going to Philly.’”

“Ha!” said Root triumphantly. “I knew you watched How I Met Your Mother!”

“So what if I do?” demanded Shaw.

“Nothing. It's not going to mess with your street cred if that's what you're worried about.”

“You are a twit,” said Shaw affectionately.

Root smiled. “I know.”

“How about you just forget the soufflé before you set out kitchen on fire,” suggested Shaw, “And come with me on a little tour of the area before we leave.”

“Good plan.” Root switched off the hob, tipped the contents of the pan into the trash can then filled the pan with water and set it in the sink.

“Maman!” called Shaw from the hallway. “Root and I are going for a walk!”

“OK!” replied her mom from the living room. This was followed by a quiet ‘yessss’ that caused Shaw to roll her eyes.

“Was that your mom?”

“Yeah, she wants me to do nice things for you and all that.”

“You know you never have to do that. You being there for me is more than enough.”

Shaw didn't reply, and Root knew that was because she didn't know what to say. Neither of them had to say anything else since they understood each other so well.

Root put Bear’s harness on him then followed Shaw out into the street. 

Shaw led her through the estate, pointing out little things like the tree she used to climb, the shop where she bought snacks after school and the dojo where she did martial arts.

Root absorbed it all like a sponge, and began to wonder how much influence this small town had had on her girlfriend. It seemed peaceful and not particularly rough, but not exactly upper class.

When they reached a busier street, a woman in a long green coat stopped in their path, staring at Shaw with an expression of surprise and curiosity. “Well I never! Sameen Shaw.”

After a beat Shaw recognised her. “Mrs Leclerc!”

“How have you been?” asked Mrs Leclerc.

“Good,” replied Shaw. “And you?”

“Not too bad, not too bad.” Mrs Leclerc turned her gaze to Root. “I’m Karen Leclerc. I taught Sameen music in middle school. Well, that's not strictly true. Sameen was in my music class in middle school before she transferred out.”

Shaw looked affronted, but was still smiling. Root turned on the charm and nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“I'm just wondering, is that a guide dog?” She gestured at Bear.

“He’s a service dog,” explained Root. “For a medical condition.”

“I’m sorry,” said Mrs Leclerc sympathetically.

“Don't be,” replied Root. “Anyways, Sameen and I need to be off now. It was nice to meet you.” 

Root took Bear’s harness in one hand and Shaw’s hand in the other, leading them down the street.

“Are you OK?” asked Shaw when her old teacher was out of earshot.

“Yeah,” said Root. “Just...did you notice how she started interrogating me about Bear without even asking my name? People sometimes think that just because somebody has a service dog or another kind of aid then they can just start asking questions and ignore basic politeness and...ugh. I’m sure she's a lovely person and all, but sometimes it really gets to me.” She angrily brushed away a tear. “I’m sorry, it's stupid and I embarrassed you in front of your teacher and…”

“No, it's OK. It’s not stupid at all and it sucks that you have to deal with that. Come here.” She hugged Root tightly and let her sob onto her shoulder. Bear whined and nudged Root’s leg with his nose. “See, even Bear doesn't want you to be upset.”

Root laughed tearfully and fished a tissue out of her pocket to blow her nose with. “Sorry. I’ve made your shirt all wet now.”

“It’s fine. Really.” Shaw kept one arm around Root’s shoulders. “If you're sure you're OK then we can go back now. And I promise if anybody else rudely asks about Bear I will beat them up for you.”

“That won't be-” She broke off and started coughing, holding on to Bear with one hand and the wall of the shop they were stood by with the other. When the coughs had subsided enough to allow her to finish her sentence, she said, “Necessary, but thank you anyway.”

“You ready to go back now?” asked Shaw.

“Yes. Thank you for showing me all of this.”

“My pleasure.” They held hands and walked back slowly, enjoying the weather, fresh air and each other's company.


End file.
